like we used to
by designs by tori
Summary: "My biggest regret is not telling you the truth." AU.


_Some people are meant to fall in love with each other, but not meant to be together._

_At least that's what I initially thought, but now that I'm here, standing right in front of him, I'm not so sure that's the case anymore._

* * *

Zig Novak had been mentally preparing himself all summer for this day, the first day of his sophomore year, where he could no longer avoid Tori Santamaria. She was his first real girlfriend, a girl he used to have profound feelings for, and ultimately the first heart he broke due to the hormones his 15-year-old self was prone to.

In homeroom, he had been holding his breath, sneaking surreptitious glances towards the classroom door to see if the curly-haired girl would come bouncing in. When she didn't, he released a nervous breath.

Second period came and went, the lump in his throat slowly dislodging as the minutes ticked by without once hearing her cheerful giggles.

By third period, he allowed himself to feel a cautious relief, both glad and anxious at the same time; glad because he hadn't faced her all day so far; anxious because he knows the moment they cross paths, the radiant smile that flashes across her face will no longer light up at the sight of him; anxious because the chances of not seeing her at all are very slim, and if he hasn't seen her yet, he will likely be seeing her soon.

And he was _so sure_ "soon" would be now, in a crowded lunch room with a food-laden tray in his hands. He was _so sure _he would see her dolled-up self perched prettily at a lunch table with her best friends, Tristan Milligan and Maya Matlin, on either side of her.

Instead, they were sitting with a dark-haired girl that _wasn't_ Tori. He wasn't expecting that.

Relief and confusion struggled for dominance on his emotional spectrum, but his expression remained nonchalant as he walked by their table.

He could feel two gazes burning into the back of his new leather jacket as he passed them by.

"She's not here."

Tristan.

He hadn't been expecting that, either. Since the cheating situation the previous year, Tori's childhood best friend had been treating him like a pariah.

Zig froze momentarily before turning back around and meeting the eyes of the group, apprehensive.

The two blondes, one dyed and one natural, stared up at him knowingly. The unfamiliar girl darted a glance between them, clearly out of the loop, but she shook her hair back imperiously, masking her cluelessness with haughtiness, and glanced him up and down in an interested fashion.

"Hey," she greeted him with a flirtatious smile. "I'm Zoe Rivas."

Zig disregarded her.

"What?" he finally responded, a bit lamely. The plastic tray felt slick in his hands all of a sudden, and not because of the death look this Zoe Rivas chick was sending him.

"She's not here," Tristan repeated.

"Tori," Maya supplied when the green-eyed boy didn't respond. It was the first thing she'd said to him all day.

He blinked. Saying her name in his mind was entirely different than hearing it spoken aloud. He couldn't figure out why the latter always sparked a pinching sensation in his chest._  
_

Suddenly, his mouth felt as dry as a heat wave in the summer. _I need water_, he thought to himself, clearing his throat.

Maya stared at him momentarily, as if searching for something in his gaze, before coming to a conclusion. The bespectacled girl sighed.

"You don't know, do you?" she asked doubtfully, her eyebrows raised.

"Know what?" Zig responded cautiously, slowly growing irritated by what he thought was pity in her clear blue eyes and hoping against hope that his voice wasn't as croaky as he thought it sounded. He cleared his throat again for good measure.

"Tori's gone, Zig," Tristan said. "She moved to New York in the beginning of summer break." The aspiring actor twisted his mouth sadly. Finally, softly, he said, "She's not coming back."

Everything froze right then and there, everything except his thoughts. His mind soared, absorbing the brand new information with complete shock, the words "not coming back" echoing endlessly in his head.

_Gone?_

_Since the beginning of summer?_

_In another _country_?_

_Why didn't she tell me?_

_No, of course she didn't tell me... Things didn't exactly end on the best of terms between us._

_Is this my fault? Did I do this?_

That last thought made him feel distraught. The guilt of the possibility that this was _his_ doing, that _he_ might be the reason why she left at all, churned his stomach nastily. Tori had _loved_ Degrassi. She had loved the drama department, the friends she'd made, the (generally) positive environment, the events... the school itself. She had absolutely thrived here.

"Did she say why she left?" Zig heard himself ask.

Maya simply shook her head, her serious crystalline eyes trained unblinkingly on his green ones, no doubt gauging his reaction.

_I need to get out of here._

Without uttering another word, Zig strode on hollow legs to the door he had entered through a mere ten minutes ago, discarding his now unappetizing food on an empty table. The slam of the door muted the clatter of the tray and the loud chattering of the lunchroom. He had no idea where he was going, he just knew he needed to get away from everyone else.

Was he angry, disappointed, or relieved? Mostly, he was confused because he felt all three: angry, because he was the last to know that she left; disappointed, for a multitude of reasons he wasn't willing to confront; and then relieved, because not only was his ex-girlfriend a living reminder of one of his most regrettable mistakes, she was one of the two people who could see right through him. He felt relieved because he knew the moment her eyes caught sight of his brand new clothes, his brand new _self_, she would've asked an endless list of questions he was neither prepared nor inclined to answer. That realization both saddened and comforted him, which only confused him even more. Shouldn't he _want_ this? Shouldn't he be _happy_ that he didn't have to face his ex-girlfriend for who knows how long?

_I should be_, he thought to himself frustratedly, running a hand through his new haircut and huffing a sigh. _So why aren't I?_

With a heavy breath, Zig approached the door to his next class. Lunch wasn't over for another fifteen minutes, so he slid down to the floor and propped his elbows on his knees, enjoying the outer peace while his mind continued to reel.

"She didn't even say bye," he finally mumbled to himself.

And that was the most confusing thing of all.


End file.
